


nothing less than sinful

by briwookie



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Gen, M/M, Seven Deadly Sins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10852425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwookie/pseuds/briwookie
Summary: Seven boys, seven drabbles. The island affects more than one, after all.(Short compilation of drabbles based on the seven deadly sins.)





	nothing less than sinful

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few years ago but I found it again and still loved the concept, so here we are. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Being known as a puppeteer was nothing like the boy had in mind.

He found the title generic. If anything, he should be known as the all-knowing, great and powerful. He knew that this label wasn't particularly as gratifying as 'puppeteer', but the boy felt as though he deserved it. To be able to bend the minds of others was no easy task, to find their darkest, most secure secrets. Yes, he knew that playing with the sins of others was reckless, but he enjoyed knowing the more intimate sides of others. He enjoyed knowing that everything he was doing was for the sake of them, moving around their strings. 

After all, somebody had to do it. And Simon was more than simply pleased. He was utterly and completely satisfied.

The boy raised the puppets from their slumber, all seven of them, and he chuckled as the flames of the fire grew higher and higher.

* * *

 

**Tale I: Pride**

The blonde boy with the fair skin took a step back, gazing at the ripples of the water with delusional eyes.

He found himself touching his face, scarred from the creepers he had to push himself through, and coming to the sheer realization that he, himself, did change. Whether it was for the worst, or for the better, the boy found himself sinking in to what he had become. Horrific, a true animal.

"What's wrong with me?"

Even his voice seemed faintly savage, completely unfamiliar to him. The green eyes that had once captured a sense of what was right or wrong were different now, wanting nothing more than to bring back what had already been lost. The burning of the trees around him, and the vivid image of his friend falling from the cliff...falling, continuing to scream.

 _Splash_.

Ralph found himself shuddering.

This was not at all what the boy had anticipated.

He could have prevented it, he could have done something to stop it, but it was like a virus. It plagued everything, consuming everything in its path, and the boy's beating heart couldn't have contained it. No, this was something utterly indestructible, something that only God could have ceased.

_Or was it?_

Taking his hand away from the scars, from the evidence that he was no longer in charge, the boy dunk his throbbing head in the same water, watching as the blood that dripped from his wounds dissolved. This water was no longer holy; it had become just as savage as he had. There was something in his mind that told him, regardless of everything he had witnessed, that this was still  _his_  island. His friends were all long gone, but he knew that there was still so much he could do on his own.

Yes, he could feel the anticipation bubble in his stomach, like an animal struggling to release itself from a cage.

_My island._

The boy, removing himself from the pool and letting his hair drip, looked once more into the red water to find something he didn't expect.

It was his reflection still, but this time it was different. His hair wasn't long, it was cut short, and his eyes didn't hold that sense of fear and retaliation. _No_ , this was himself from the earlier days of the island, where he held a pristine act, and where he could tell others what to do. He remembered when he held the conch with such charisma, knowing that whatever happened, he would be able to lead the tribe,  _his_  tribe. He looked so clean then, unaware of the Beast…

This is what should have been.

Ralph was aware of this, and without a second of hesitation, he looked forward. He must take the initiative, he must reclaim what was once his, and he was no longer scared of the being in the forest, watching him. Waiting.

_My island. My tribe._

He began to move through the forest, leaving the blood-drenched pool behind and trying to find some solitude. This in itself was only going to be found in the most frightening of all places: back up to the castle of rocks. Where the smoke ran high, where the chants seem to almost mesmerize, and where anybody could wear paint to feel like a king. Only, Ralph was the king. He was the rightful heir, the only true chief. He kept repeating this to himself. His tribe, his island,  _his_  way. Not Jack's, not the Beast's.  _His_.

To which he could smell the pig from a mile away, he deserted himself through the shadows, dissolving into the unknown parts of the jungle. He was going to take back what was rightfully his, whether the current chief had anything to say about it. For his friends, but mainly because he felt proud.

Proud of everything, proud of knowing that whatever he was going to do, it would be for himself.

Who else  _really_  mattered, anyway?

 **Tale** II:  **Greed**

Sitting on a throne was something only little children could fathom about.

Jack wasn't exactly sure of when he did think about it, but he knew that if he ever did, this would be the precise way of doing it. Seeing all of his choir boys work hard for his desires, and smelling the rich, indulging scent of dead pig. He had to grind his grimy teeth together to repress himself from running head first into it, savagely ripping the meat bone from bone, letting his hunger take control. Even if he did, he wouldn't be too guilty.

After all, this meat was for him, wasn't it?

A whipped boy crawled from his space off of the rocks, whimpering and begging for a speck of food. Jack was already sure that he wasn't going to get any. What would the point of a punishment be if the boy got what he wanted, anyway? Without remorse, the chief gestured towards Maurice and the others, watching them as they took the boy away.

This label, this _title_ was something that the ginger had to fight for. True, Ralph did put up a good fight, but really, did he honestly have a chance? Of course not.

He did fight back, with the ferociousness and that silly little toy called the conch. The conch in itself was nothing more than a shell, anyway. Any boy could find one and use it, so what was the unique part that it could do? Either way, Jack was in charge now. He enjoyed being called this name, to hear the beautiful word slip from his subject's lips. Yes, he referred to the other boys as his subjects, since he himself was ruler, and the boy himself couldn't really think of anything to call them as. He tried his hardest to sustain his leadership, and it certainly paid off. Now everybody knew who exactly Jack was: strong, brave, and a damn good hunter.

No more conflict could have been known to Jack.

Ralph was still alive, sure, but they would take care of that. Even after that, Jack was sure that nobody would dare confront him, try to take his position and live to tell the tale.

However, there was still something that Jack felt was creeping up on him. Yes, he was sure of it. He turned his head towards his second in command, with the face holding sheer apathy and a sneer that could kill.

Roger himself was very useful to Jack, being by his side even when they first landed on the island. Hidden intent was in his eyes, however, those dark eyes that Jack could never comprehend. It was bitter, trying to get inside the other boy and finding out what those eyes could hold, but the chief himself was sure that, whatever it was, it would come in due time. The main thing that frustrated Jack however, was the fact that maybe, just maybe, those hidden intentions called for a revolution.

Jack thought to himself, what if Roger wanted to steal Jack's throne for himself?

It was reasonable. After all, Roger did try very hard to get on Jack's good side. The possibility for Roger to want to take it all was actually understandable, but that sure as hell didn't mean Jack was comfortable with it. In fact, this angered the chief immensely, almost to the point where Jack wanted to bring it up for himself.

Knowing Roger, it would be when Jack would least expect it, with the sharpened spear that was the other boy's classical trademark and prized possession, drilling through his body and leaving the chief to die in his own pool of blood. Roger would more than likely be discreet about it, but once he was dead, Roger would hold up the spear and call the others, saying that he was now in charge and nobody was going to stop him. And with that little smirk on his face, Roger would feel no shame.

Jack watched as the other boy turned to meet his bothering stare, and the two boys looked at each other with respect. However, Jack was sure that Roger was reading him right then and there, trying to find any source of weakness that the ginger might have.

"Chief?" Roger asked, unsure of what Jack wanted, and the freckled boy simply laughed before turning towards the pig.

"Nothing, just awfully hungry."

Jack was sure that greediness was something that had always been a part of him, but this was his role, his position.

He sure as hell was never going to give someone that opportunity. Even Roger.

**Tale III: Envy**

Sam watched from the corners of his eyes as Eric was standing proudly, accepting the praise with his chin raised and his blue eyes flashing in the midst of a shattering afternoon.

Eric helped the other boys hunt. This wasn't really the surprise, but Eric was best known of his great tracking skills. He assisted the other hunters into getting that night's dinner, so it was natural for the chief to look at him with acknowledging eyes.

"Great job again, Eric. Glad to see you were able to do something for the tribe."

Normally, this little remark would have been considered aggravating for someone such as Eric, but the boy was so pleased at being called in front of the other boys that he simply didn't care. He smiled from ear to ear, his paint continuing to stretch along the outsides of his face.

Sam on the other end was far from pleased. Rather, he felt absolutely humiliated. Sam himself was known as a good hunter as well, but it seemed rather unfair for his brother to get all the treatment and for him to just be standing in the backround. After all, the twin was best known for getting the bait for the traps, and for getting the paint supplies. Didn't that matter to anybody else but him?

"As a reward, Eric will be joining us on the grand hunt tomorrow morning, where we will hunting something far more...interesting than an animal." The chief chuckled, turning away and leaving the twin smiling. Sam was sure his anger was going to be evident eventually, so whenever Eric turned and walked towards him on the other side of the campsite, Sam rolled his eyes.

"Did you hear that, Sam? Jack said..."

"I know what he said." Sam replied, turning towards the other boy and placing his hands on his chest. Eric looked back, unsure of where his brother's bitterness was coming from, but he continued regardless.

"It should be an interesting hunt...I wonder where exactly we're heading out tomorrow."

"Ralph," Sam said, narrowing his blue eyes underneath his mop of light orange hair.

"You're going to hunt Ralph tomorrow, or did you just forget?"

Sam didn't really mean for it to come out that way, it just did, but Eric noticed this right away and laughed.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would say that you were a little  _jealous_  that Jack gave me some credit."

"Jealous? Me?" Sam questioned, not really knowing where this was going. Sure, maybe he was a little bit jealous that Eric got so much of the credit, but that didn't mean that Sam was going to confess it anytime soon. Besides, hunting Ralph was far more of an issue than mere jealousy.

"Yeah. After all, isn't that what Mum and Daddy said? They would always say how I was the better child."

"Have you turned completely batty? I am not jealous!" Sam cried out, watching as the other twin simply laughed and leave the cave. Before Eric went all the out however, he turned around and stuck his head back in.

"No need to worry. Tomorrow, I will make sure to bring you back all the juicy details!"

After the other twin left for good, and once the meat itself was through being cooked, Sam wasn't too hungry. The words that Jack had said from before still echoed in his mind, and more than anything did Sam want to get some credit for doing something...anything really.

Then his eyes widened, and he turned quickly to find the spear in his vision. He and Eric looked exactly the same, didn't they? The twin laughed, almost too quietly, as though he was up to something, and the boy grabbed his spear and looked at Eric with envious eyes.

_Nobody would even realize he was gone._

**Tale IV: Lust**

He couldn't comprehend this feeling. It was like wanting something so badly, but knowing you were never going to be satisfied.

The boy's body was rising up, gradually, like the moonlit water near the cliff. The moonlight itself was slitted through the cavern, only covering the naked chest barely, but the light-haired boy watching the other was not at all disappointed. Rather, he felt enjoyed, for as long as he could watch the other boy sleep, that would be enough for him. Even his own breathing was slow and quiet, just as Maurice wanted it to be.

Was this so wrong?

Maurice wanted to reach out, to touch him, but what would the viper do if a mouse was to interfere? Naturally, Maurice would imagine the other boy to snap at him, calling him an idiot and rolling away. However, there was something about this image, so beautifully innocent and peaceful that made him want it even more. He actually wanted the other boy to be touched, to feel good, and this lustful wanting was something that Maurice couldn't contain.

He couldn't help himself. He had to reach out, just a little touch. When his fingertips felt the soft, black hair of the other boy, Maurice was actually sure his heart skipped a beat. Boys wanting to touch each other was something the boy remembered wasn't good.

He remembered the big pastor on those Sunday mornings, raising his arms and calling out that homosexuality was sinful, something that shouldn't be done. Maurice knew this was against everything he had ever learned, and for someone such as Roger? If the boy knew a few months ago, when they first landed on the island, that he would fall exceptionally hard for one of the more horrific boys, he might have simply shook his head, forgetting everything altogether. But now, he simply couldn't forget it. The way he tangled his hands in Roger's hair, the way that Roger's skin almost shimmered in the light, and the way he looked so damn intoxicating...

Maurice wanted all of it.

"So beautiful," Maurice found himself whispering, instantly blushing up at the statement and wondering why he said it. It was true, Roger was actually quite handsome in this state, far more so than whenever he was angrier at him. But there was something about the way he said it that made him shudder.

_I want him all to myself._

Maurice didn't want anyone else to feel the pleasures of touching Roger. He wanted to keep him all to himself, to put a chain on him, and never let anyone else see him, feel him, do anything with him.

"You're all mine." He whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips against the soft, white skin.

Even though Roger was a monster to some, Maurice didn't mind. Rather, Maurice truly loved him for who he was. Just Roger.

**Tale V: Sloth**

Percival wasn't the type to sit around and do nothing, but he was worn out. Weeping and crying for days on end, wishing his parents were around was too much to think about. He even wondered what day it was, was it afternoon? Night?

The little boy couldn't even remember his own address, the one he memorized by heart his entire life, the one thing the boy knew he couldn't forget. It was all gone.

He might as well be the same. He was hungry, but he didn't want to move. He was comfortable in this state, to not have the other boys look at him and remind him exactly where they were: an island. This island wouldn't let him be at peace, with the images of his parents and his hometown circling in his mind. Was the war still going in? Percival couldn't even remember there being a war.

For a moment, the boy himself actually thought that someone like Ralph or Piggy was calling out to him, telling him to get back up and get on his feet. To meet the growing sunshine with his smile, and to greet the breaking dawn with such happiness.

However, even the thought of that didn't seem to make Percival want to remove himself from his own corner. Darkness continued to creep around him, pushing him farther and farther to the point of simply wanting to give up, to not do anything. What was the point? It wasn't as though the ship was actually going to come, anyways.

_We might be stuck here for the rest of our lives._

Piggy's words had struck him more than anything. Was it true? Could it be true that they really were going to be stuck here for the rest of their lives? Percival certainly wasn't going to doubt it.

Percival simply didn't care anymore.

**Tale VI: Gluttony**

Piggy was hungry.

He was always hungry, but now more than anything, he was far more hungry for something to eat. The smell of the burning pork was lingering on his tongue, consuming him, wanting to completely own him. However, it seemed so far away, The body of the swine was rolling above a busy fire, smoking up and looking utterly appetizing. Piggy wanted to touch it, he wanted nothing more than to ravish himself in this delicate meat.

_Don't cave in. Remember what you came here for._

Piggy told himself that it was far more important to participate in the party, to find the other tribe's weaknesses, compared to enjoying a nicely cooked meal. While the temptations were rising, he could see Ralph smile out of the corner of his eye.

"They look like they're enjoying themselves."

"Bunch of animals," Piggy commented, placing his hands on his hips and trying to think of anything else but the meat. The two boys had managed to come this far to sneak up and see what was going on, but also because they didn't have a lot of food back at camp and they were hungry. Piggy wanted to get the information first, that was his first priority, and Ralph seemed to understand that concept quite well.

"When we go in, just don't pull a lot of attention. Maybe Jack won't say anything."

Piggy was sure this wasn't going to work. Jack would know, and he would sure as hell be able to bring it up while they were there. However, Piggy was sure that, if this was what Ralph wanted, then he would try his best to follow the rules.

They both walked into the area, where the chanting was high and where everyone was painted. Ralph and Piggy both felt out of the style completely, more so Piggy than the chief, but once Jack walked over to where they were, he smirked. Piggy hated that look with all passion.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here?"

"You have meat, don't you?" Ralph hissed, glaring towards the other boy and looking around to find the other choir boys laughing. Piggy wanted to run away, to get away from it all, but the swine was still there, taunting him. 

 _Come at me, Piggy_ it seemed to whisper, and the ginger looked towards the pork and gestured towards his other boys.

"Well? Get the traitors some food." Jack called out, watching as Maurice and Robert ran up to the two boys with their portions. Ralph dug in immediately, enjoying the savoring taste of the meat in his mouth, while Piggy simply looked down at the leg and contemplated in his mind.

_You can't eat it, this is enemy meat! You'll go against everything if you eat it._

However, Piggy looked to see Ralph. He was enjoying his food, and it didn't appear to be poisoned of the sort. The fat boy looked at the leg again and brought it to his mouth, biting it and instantly remembering the hunger that had tried to do him in before.

Piggy could do nothing but give in, the meat bringing him all the joys and desires he wanted.

**Tale VII: Wrath**

Even with his hands gripping onto the edge of the ship, his eyes stay glued on the island leaving his sight.

Roger never actually thought about the ship coming. Never had he once imagined that Ralph would be out of their grasp, free to live. This thought made the boy furious, because for once in Roger's life, he wanted something dead. Not just dead in his memories, or dead in his fantasies, but something dead in his hands, with the blood coming out, looking like fine, red paint. This paint would be stuck in his mind though, and he wished that the ship would've come a little later. Seconds worth, really.

"You alright?"

Jack's voice popped up out of nowhere, and the other boy turned to find the ginger leaning against the side of the rail, looking towards him almost with caution. Roger must have been sending pretty bad looks to get this reaction out from his chief.

"I want to go back." It was a simple statement, one that didn't really call for questioning, and Jack nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I want to go back too."

For a moment, the two boys just stared off from the ship and at the disappearing island, with all of the memories they shared being blown to bits. Roger was determined to keep this feeling alive, however, and more than anything he wanted to jump off and swim back. Roger himself wasn't that bad of a swimmer, and he would do anything to be able to go back, even for just a minute. Just to relieve that fire that had consumed him from before.

"You know," Roger whispered, turning from the island to face his friend. "We could do whatever he wanted to go back. Besides, if we were to go back to our town, to go back to school, he would be in serious trouble. Remember, with the deaths of Simon and the fatass, we would probably get sentenced for something." The brown eyes shimmered to the moving waters below them, and the boy sighed before coming to a brief realization. "What if...we were to take this ship under our own wings?"

Jack looked towards Roger in shock, not knowing that Roger would want to do something so, so...desperately.

"You mean to overthrow the captain?"

"To overthrow him, yes, but also to take this ship and send us back to the island."

Roger smirked, liking this idea much more than he had anticipated.

The previous anger that was flooding through his system was now completely turning into revenge, and Roger watched as his friend nod in agreement, even though there was the bit of hesitation. Roger wasn't going to hesitate, though. Roger knew more than anything that the island was where he belonged, it was his home. He wouldn't be able to go anywhere else and feel the same rush of adrenaline as it was to kill the pig, and even though the island was more than likely burned out, the boy was sure there were more pigs to hunt, and with all the boys there...

"Where are we heading out?" Jack asked, now looking more excited than ever to take part of this grand escape. "And wait, what about...?"

"Ralph? Forget about him. If he tries to get in our way," Roger hissed, pulling out the same pocket knife that he had brought on the island, and the two boys laughed before beginning to form a plan.

Roger was an angry boy, but he was also sure that, along with that anger, came a clever mind.

With the puppets thrown into the fire, Simon laughed, enjoying the sparks engulf everything surrounding them. The sinful desires, everything that had ever been created on that island would soon disappear, and Simon smiled at knowing that this is what happened. The puppets eventually turned to ash, and the room to flames.


End file.
